


Finish What You Started

by AndWeMutate



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Masturbation, Orgasm Delay, Orgasm Delay/Denial, PWP without Porn, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2019-08-27
Packaged: 2020-09-28 02:36:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20418494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndWeMutate/pseuds/AndWeMutate
Summary: "Wade learned early in their relationship that Peter was eager to please and good at taking direction. He crumbles beautifully and there was always something a little sad about it. Wade wasn’t sure if Peter was just anxious or just as fucked up and needy as he was. Whatever it was, it made Peter compliant in moments like this, obedient and always wanting more. Wade had quickly become addicted to the insatiable Peter Parker and all of his broken parts."Wade walks in on Peter enjoying a little private time and Wade find himself eager to punish Peter for starting without him.





	Finish What You Started

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SpidarPool](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpidarPool/gifts).

> This is a gift to one of my very best friends, Tara, who is so stinkin' supportive of not only my writing, but of me. She's always there with a Spideypool picture or a gif or some beautiful words to cheer me up and I can't tell you how much I appreciate it. You're a ridiculously amazing and sweet person, bb and I'm so thankful to have you in my life. I hope this Spideypool smut shows a little bit of my appreciation. ilusm~
> 
> This grew into a little monster. It became louder and longer than I had first anticipated but I'm not complaining. This is my first time writing for Spideypool and I had a lot of fun with it. So, I hope it shows through and it doesn't suck and ahhhhh.
> 
> And just for reference, in my head, this is Peter from the PS4 Spider-Man game, so very much legal and all that jazz.

“Really? Without me?” Wade sounds almost disappointed but it doesn’t pair well with the goofy grin he can’t seem to hide. Then again, it’s effectively hidden by the red and black mask he’s wearing so whoops?

The one who can’t hide much of anything at the moment is Peter; naked, back against the headboard of their bed, half-hard cock in his hand. He looks like he just got caught with his hand in the cookie jar, eyes wide and panic smeared across his face. He opens his mouth but nothing comes out, not a single sound.

“Better close your mouth, Spidey, unless you want me getting ideas.” 

Peter’s mouth closes, which disappoints Wade but he’s not too worried about it. Not yet, anyway. Peter’s still scrambling for something to say, anything at all, before he feels the bed shift under the weight of Wade Wilson. Not that those strained, panicked noises weren’t just so fucking adorable, but Wade had to put poor Peter out of his misery. 

He removes his mask, tossing it aside and out of sight. Gnarled, damaged skin exposed and Peter doesn’t flinch. He never did. That was one of the first things that drew him to Peter, one of way too many things that kept Wade way too attached. It would have been so much easier to have Peter in a purely physical way, so much less complicated to simply fuck the vocal young man, but damn his Spider-babe for that ridiculously adorable sense of justice, those bug puppy dog eyes and that tight ass. Wade did the stupid thing and fell head over dick in love with him. He’d done some stupid things before but this...wow. Peter was the dumbest thing Wade had ever done. Couldn’t complain. Wouldn’t complain.

Wade reaches forward and takes Peter’s chin between two fingers, forcing their eyes to meet. He tilts his head just so, as if admiring Peter, as if looking at him for the very first time all over again. He was an oddity, always had been, damaged goods long before he met Wade and pretty shitty at hiding it most of the time. Wade had found ways to pick him apart slowly, surely, through off-handed quips and moments of clarity. Of course, he had Peter beat in the fucked up department, but damn it all, his little complexities were pretty amazing. Always kept him guessing.

His thumb slides upward, brushing along Peter’s lower lip. Soft, pink...it winds Wade up, twists his insides into tight, unrelenting knots. “You started without me,” he mutters, voice low, nearly a growl. “Now, what do you think we should do about that?”

Peter doesn’t respond immediately, waiting for Wade’s momentary silence, an allowance to speak. He speaks around Wade’s thumb, forcing himself not to smirk, “You could...punish me?” 

Wade has a little trouble keeping his expression even, The pad of his thumb moves to the corner of his mouth, tilting his head slightly as he replies, “I could, but you’d like that, wouldn’t you? You like when I punish you.” 

There wasn’t a right answer to this and Peter knew that. He chose honesty. He nods, eyes never leaving Wade’s. He decides to punctuate his answer by leaning forward and taking Wade’s thumb into his mouth, sucking on it slowly, gently. The action creates a riptide within Wade and he’s suddenly inclined to move the pad of his thumb along the sleek wetness of Peter’s tongue. A small sound leaves Peter, a defenseless, needy little sound and a breathless chuckle is Wade’s only reply.

“At least you’re honest,” he muses, brushing his thumb along the tip of Peter’s tongue, “always so damn honest. My little warrior of truth and justice.” He takes a moment to simply drink Peter in. In a million, no, billion years, Wade never would have thought someone as righteous and good as Peter Parker would ever see anything that wasn’t ugly and deformed in Wade Wilson. He’d gotten lucky once and never expected to get lucky again, but in walks Peter with his bright eyes, giddy optimism and his stupid boyish smile. He never stood a chance against any of it, which was totally unfair, but it was fine. Really. He had other ways of getting back at Peter, other more interesting ways.

It came suddenly, this particular idea. It came quietly and it was more than enough for Wade. No second guessing. No hesitation. He retracts his hand from Peter’s face and in an even tone, masking devious intent, he hums, “Finish what you started.”

Admittedly, Peter’s puzzled. That’s putting it lightly. He expects Wade, anxious and unwilling to wait a second longer, to pounce like a caged beast set free. He expects frenzied hands and a flurry of scalding kisses. He expects snarky remarks about how hard Peter is in a tone that would make him even harder. Instead, he receives a series of words, a command, and it unleashes something within Peter, something that feigns innocence; the desperate want to comply. 

Peter shifts slightly, making himself comfortable, He does as he’s told and starts to stroke himself again. His strokes are leisurely, almost passive. Immediately, he reacts to his own movements, a soft exhale fluttering from his lips. He’s sensitive, eager, and it’s all much more intense with Wade’s eyes moving slowly over his body. He can feel his face burn, his entire body a twitching mess, moving solely for Wade’s entertainment and satisfaction. For Wade. For Wade only.

It’s a good start. Wade watches, absentmindedly licking his lips as Peter jerks himself off. He knows Peter’s mannerisms, his technique, but watching him feels different somehow, a more intense sensation. Wade notices the little things, the way his thighs twitch and the way he bites his bottom lip. What a little marvel he is. It’s its own sort of thrill, watching Peter’s back arch and his hand shake. Being simply a bystander in this moment, Wade is oddly satisfied watching, just watching.

Peter, however, is not. He’s needy, desperate for Wade’s touch. His own hand wasn’t enough, becoming obsolete since meeting Wade. Little spikes of pleasure shoot through his body, an added twist to his wrist causing a momentary stutter in his movements, but it still fails to be enough. Peter hears himself whine between panting and he knows Wade heard it too, if the smirk he wore was any indication. 

“What’s wrong, Pete?” Wade knows the answer but he’s curious as to what words Peter will choose.

It’s a struggle but he manages to clumsily piece together a reply. “Want...you to…”

Such an expressive man. Wade chuckles, “What’s that, baby boy? Didn’t quite catch that.”

Dick. As if possessed, Peter’s hand jerks faster and he groans in response. “Want you to...ahhh...touch me,” he mutters. 

Wade pauses, tilting his head, eyes never leaving Peter. He stifles a chuckle (somehow.) “Well, that’s pretty selfish, isn’t it, Spidey?”

“Wade…”

“You  _ want _ , huh? That any way to ask for something? Don’t think so. You know better.” There’s a sternness to his tone, a sort of expectancy. His eyes never leave Peter, watching, waiting for Peter to amend his desperate little statement. 

Which he does. He’s quick to adjust, his hand trembling with anticipation. “Please,” Peter begs, back arching, spine twisting, “Wade, please touch me. Please?” Begging has a weird way of suiting Peter and Wade has never been quite sure why. Nevertheless, it’s an attractive site. 

There’s a moment of contemplation before Wade answers. “No.” He notes Peter’s initial shock, which melts quickly into another groan, body tense and jaw slack. “You started without me, remember? I told you I should punish you…” His lips twist into a grin, satisfaction oozing from every pore. “Faster,” he hums, voice firm. 

Without hesitation, Peter obliges. His hand moves at an accelerated pace and his body reacts accordingly. A shudder rips through him, the combination of friction and Wade’s voice causing Peter to sink deeper, faster, into the movement of his own hand. It isn’t Wade. It doesn’t feel as intense as it does when it’s Wade, but his watchful eye and his commanding tone nudges Peter closer to a similar sensation and he’s quickly lost in it, a riptide of raw heat. He bites his bottom lip, rocking his hips into his hand, wishing desperately that it was Wade’s. 

He watches, hungry eyes enjoying the feast before him. Wade learned early in their relationship that Peter was eager to please and good at taking direction. He crumbles beautifully and there was always something a little sad about it. Wade wasn’t sure if Peter was just anxious or just as fucked up and needy as he was. Whatever it was, it made Peter compliant in moments like this, obedient and always wanting more. Wade had quickly become addicted to the insatiable Peter Parker and all of his broken parts.

He allows Peter to keep that same hastened pace without interruption. There’s a contentment looming over Peter, his erratic panting the only sound filling the room. In a moment of weakness, Wade reaches forward and brushes his fingers through Peter’s hair. He sighs in response, half-lidded eyes focused on Wade. “Feel good, Spidey?”

“Mmm,” Peter nearly purrs. Wade’s gentility is rewarded with a moan, the sound causing Wade to shudder. Oh, if only Peter knew what he did to Wade...if only. Selfishly, he wants to kiss Peter. He wants to lurch forward and kiss the ever-loving shit out of him. He wants to push him down and fuck him senseless. That’s what Wade wants but he remains firm. That wouldn’t be a punishment, not in any way, shape or form. Wade wants to bury his cock into Peter relentlessly, unapologetically, but he somehow resists. It’s enough to drive anyone nuts but Peter’s the gift that keeps on giving and being patient will reward him. Peter shows flashes of satisfaction, split seconds of bliss and it’s enough. It’s enough to make Wade resist the urge to take Peter right then and there, without flourish or poise. No, this was better.

To sate Wade’s urges, he tugs at a few strands of Peter’s hair, enough to get his attention. “Faster, baby boy, come on…” His words are almost melodic, urging Peter towards a quicker, more deliberate pace. It thrills Wade, watching how quickly his little spider’s hand reflects his command, stroking his cock feverishly. The breathless Peter pants wildly, tilting his head back with an exhale of Wade’s name.

His eyes glide down Peter’s body, taut, hard muscle and lean, slender limbs...mmm. Who in their right mind thought it was okay to make Peter this way? It made Wade’s head spin sometimes. Wasn’t right. Wasn’t fair. For Peter Parker to exist, to be so perfectly imperfect, equal parts awkward and ridiculously charming, heroic and sinfully flexible...and, on top of all of that, plop him in Wade’s lap? Un-fucking-believable.

Wade’s fingertips move beyond the strands of hair he fiddled with, persistently pressing into Peter’s scalp. The brunet gasps, a shudder rolling through him, unable to keep his hand steady. It jerks and stutters, his body’s quiet attempt at rebellion. He feels each twitch, every spasm, and it rides its way through him mercilessly. He wants to...he’s so damn close and…

“Don’t you dare,” warns Wade. He knows that face. Of course he knows that face. He’s acutely aware of the edge Peter’s teetering over and he has no intention of allowing him to feel that sweet bliss of the free fall. Not yet. Tugging on Peter’s hair curtly, Wade nearly hisses, “Keep going, Spidey. I’ll tell you when you can come.” 

Peter realizes then that Wade could easily kill him like this. With minimal effort, Wade could reduce Peter to ash and he’d make it look easier than it was. It’d be so easy for the hero to evade this torture, to allow his body its blissful release and offer Wade a sheepish grin, expecting a chuckle in reply. Yet, he feels a weight to Wade’s words, feels a different heat beneath his skin. He’s burning alive, boiling, and Peter demands more of the same. The things Wade could do to him, the things Wade had done, cause Peter to spiral out of control at record speed and he’d never complain. Not a peep.

If this would be the death of Spider-Man, it’d be a magnificent way to die. Just imagine the headlines.   


Peter’s body tenses and he fights against the urge to let loose. He swallows hard and pushes forward, cock gripped in his trembling hand, the friction causing him to convulse. It’s cruel but the moans and groans dripping from his lips say otherwise.

“That’s it,” Wade says. He still fights against that desperate urge to bring this heated moment to an abrupt climax, an unrelenting itch that only fucking Peter could scratch, but Wade exhibits a ridiculous amount of self control by just watching. He has to admit that having this amount of control over Peter, the absurd amount of attention being paid to each and every word, was both helping and hindering his ability to keep his dick in his pants. Peter never made it easy, not with that ass and the sounds he produces. The only thing that was easy, the only thing Peter allowed to be easy, was tripping over a mountain of complex feelings that took Wade ages to sort through. Yeah, falling ass over head for Peter Park was the easiest part. 

Which is why he enjoys these moments so much. Teasing him, making him shudder and moan and crumble to pieces...that was fun for Wade. Building Peter back up was its own thrill. The moments after? Just as awesome as the ones before. All of it was pretty damn sweet. 

Especially now, bearing witness to Peter ripping himself apart, watching him struggle with intense wants and dire urges…yeah, didn’t get much better than that. 

“Wade…” Peter’s voice cracks, a louder sound than he expects. “Fuck, please...Wade…”

He chuckles. “Such a filthy mouth, Spidey. Wouldn’t quite call that ‘friendly neighborhood’ language, would you?”

Peter sputters in an attempt to reply, but it yields nothing. He’s knotted up from the inside out, unable to keep up with Wade’s razor sharp wit or his own hand. Somehow, he managers a coherent thought, “Let me come, Wade...please, let me come.” 

“Do you deserve it?”

Without missing a beat, Peter whines, “No…”

“Then why should I let you shoot your web, huh?” He singles out a short strand of Peter’s hair and tugs a little harder than he had before. “Why should I reward such a bad boy?”

“I’ll be good,” Peter suddenly exclaims. “I’ll be good, so good, I promise!” A shudder tears through him and his hand trembles. The air around them is so thick, threatening to strangle Peter. It lingers and sits heavy on his chest. Wade adds more pressure, more weight and Peter fights to catch his breath. It outruns him, eludes him and Peter desperately gulps down the air he’s allowed. He’s teetering over so many edges and no matter which way he falls, he’s falling right into Wade. 

He feels his lips twist into a crooked smirk. Peter’s completely out of control, a runaway train desperate for something to stop it. He looks almost panicked, as if the thought of not being allowed to come might kill him. Who knows? It might. Not like Wade would ever allow his Spidey to die that way (or at all, let’s be real here) but it very well could. Judging by Peter’s expression, the shiver racing down the length of his spine and how he’s gnawing at the inside of his cheek, it was close. As much as Wade would love to keep Peter like this, a perpetual state of near-orgasmic bliss, he knew he’d have to (very reluctantly) set him free, allowing him to come crashing down from a spectacular high.

What a shame.

Wade relents, still toying with Peter’s hair between his calloused fingertips. He sighs softly, as if disappointed that this had to end, and says, “Alright, Pete...come for me.” 

He doesn’t hesitate. He couldn’t even if he wanted to. He squeezes his eyes shut and the world goes black. Peter’s body violently spasms and he comes, doing so loudly and vehemently. Even so, his hand doesn’t stop moving immediately, aftershocks throwing his body into a series of convulsions. It’s intense and fuck, it feels good.

Wade’s enamored by Peter, every reaction, every moment. Between Peter’s orgasm and the moments after, Wade is lost in him, his little wonder. As Peter pants and finds his way back down to Earth, Wade can’t wipe the stupid, satisfied smirk off of his face. He finds himself smiling a lot more since he met Peter, since he polluted him physically, emotionally and sexually...funny coincidence, that. 

By the time Wade’s meandering thoughts return him to the present, Peter’s staring at him. Wade stares right back and for a while, there’s silence. It’s a comfortable silence, warm and familiar. It lasts a few beats longer, if that, before the two simultaneously burst into laughter, breathless chuckles and deep belly laughs. 

Quite the pair they are.

The laughter subsides and Peter looks at Wade with a sense of fondness that makes Wade’s chest feel tight. His heartbeat isn’t so loud now and he can actually hear his own words when he speaks, voice a bit shaky as he exhales deeply. “You’re crazy,” Peter says playfully, leaning forward to steal a sloppy kiss from Wade, who returns it with gusto. 

“Jury’s still out,” replies Wade, “But, I’m pretty crazy about you so…”

Peter’s jaw nearly hits the floor. “You’re so cheesy!” 

“Hey, you knew what you signed up for, getting involved with me...besides, you love it.”

His expression softens. His thoughts are fleeting, body and mind exhausted and still tingling, yet one thought persists. It’s clear and vivid and it continues to repeat. Right now, it’s all that makes sense to Peter. He loved it. He loved it so much. “Yeah,” Peter sighs, “I do.”

**Author's Note:**

> As per usual, beta'd by me so I apologize for any errors that were overlooked.
> 
> Also, just an added thing, I started listening to "Moderation" by Florence + the Machine and it suits Spideypool too well imo~


End file.
